Voters could’ve put the HIGH in Ohio yesterday voting to completely legalize the good shit, which might’ve made Nick Lachey, of all hos richer, than Jessica Simpson. But sadly for Nick Lachey, Ohio decided that they’d rather give their money to their local weed man than stick it between the hard tits of the dude from 98 Degrees.
A motley crew of Ohio weed farm owners (including Cincinnati’s own Nick Lachey, fashion designer Nanette Lepore, retired NBA star Oscar Robertson, football player Frostee Rucker and descendants of President Taft) put up as much as a total of $4 million to get a marijuana legalization bill to the voters. If the bill to make medicinal and recreational marijuana legal passed, 10 weed farms in Ohio, and only those 10 weed farms, would’ve been able to grow the good shit and sell it to dispensaries. Nick and his partners own one of the 10 farms. They paid $10 million for it, like the other farm owners. Of course, the owners wanted that shit to pass, because one study claimed that they’d collectively make $1.1 billion a year if it did.
Cleveland.com says that the weed bill, called Issue 3, won just 35.9% of the votes. Apparently, even some of the pot heads of Ohio threw a side-eye at the bill, because it would’ve turned the weed game into a monopoly. Nick Lachey cried out a green tear (it was green because he was thinking of all the money he’s losing out on) as he tweeted about being defeated.
— Nick Lachey (@NickLachey) November 4, 2015
What’s really weird to me is that the second hottest dude in 98 Degrees owns a weed farm. Out of all the 90s boy banders, I would’ve guessed that Chris Kirkpatrick of N*Sync would be the one to own a weed farm, because he was obviously stoned into oblivion when he did his hair up like a rotten braided pineapple.
In other Ohio political news, Opal Covey, my choice for president in 2020, didn’t become Mayor of Toledo last night. She came in last place! So I’m guessing that all of the stoners of Toledo are smoking an illegal joint next to Opal Covey while watching God destroy their city with lightning bolts.
Poor Chris Hansen; he’s probably got a next-level case of shin splints from all the chairs he’s kicked out for Tyga to have a seat on.
According to TMZ, 25-year-old rapper/father/owner of some busted Ronald McDonald hair Tyga is no longer being coy about his relationship with 17-year-old future homeschool drop out/aspiring filler enthusiast Kylie Jenner. Tyga sort of dipped his toe into the shallow end of the poor decisions pool by getting her name tattooed on his arm, but recently he dove straight into the deep end. Even though the age of consent in California is still 18, TMZ says Tyga has been telling his friends that he’s not worried about statutory rape laws because his teenage girlfriend is “more mature” than most adults. Tyga thinks that because Kylie is a millionaire who runs a company and owns her own house, she’s basically a grown woman. “Looks like I’m no longer needed here” thought the numbers 1997 on her birth certificate.
Tyga also says there’s nothing “morally wrong” with dating a 17-year-old, and that he “doesn’t give a fuck about what the law says.” I’m going to use that one the next time I’m pulled over for steering my car with my knees so I can two-fist a pair of cheeseburgers.
Even though you and I know what Tyga and Kylie are doing is the definition of shady, not-right, and NO, “law enforcement sources” tell TMZ that unless someone files a complaint, there’s nothing they can do about it. And you know that even if someone were to file a complaint, it would be intercepted by Pimp Mama Kris’ telekinetic shitty parenting powers.
But where’s Kylie in all of this? If you said school, then you’re a dumbass. No! She’s filming Snapchat videos of herself getting “high as fuck“. Bruce Jenner, come get your plastic-looking kid!
Rosie O’Donnell’s dramatic custody battle with her soon-to-be ex-wife has recently hit a higher level of MESS, and it has everything to do with Rosie being a high mess. According to TMZ, Rosie’s future ex-wife Michelle Rounds – who is sort of giving me some serious Tami Taylor vibes in that picture – says she deserves sole custody of their 2-year-old daughter Dakota because Rosie is a wine-chugging pot head and a shit parent. I’m taking back that Tami Taylor comparison; Tami Taylor would never have a problem with someone guzzling wine.
Michelle claims Rosie drinks a bottle of wine almost every night, regularly smokes weed and eats weed-filled foods (sorry, I have a hard time calling them “edibles“, because it reminds me of Edna’s Edibles, and Mrs. Garrett would never!), and it’s getting in the way of her parenting. Michelle says Rosie is in her own world most of the time, which means the nannies end up making the decisions regarding her 5 kids. Michelle also accuses Rosie of letting her 19-year-old son throw parties and allows his underage friends to drink alcohol.
Of course, Rosie is hissing back that everything Michelle says is LIES because she’s a low-down dirty gold digger who is pissed off about the prenup she signed. Rosie’s rep tells TMZ: “This is a distorted perception of Michelle’s reality. It’s sad in every way.” Not shockingly, Michelle fired back, claiming she was a millionaire before she got with Rosie, and adding, “I will walk away from every dime of Rosie’s money if I get full custody.”
Yeah, something tells me that last part might not be the whole truth. Even if Michelle does get full custody, I’m sure she’ll conveniently remember a reason why she needs some of Rosie’s money. “Rosie owes me $4.6 million for…uh…cash she took out of my purse to pay the wine-and-weed delivery guy. Yeah, that’s it.“
I know, a more shocking title would’ve been: “This May Or May Not Be A Video Of RiRi Delicately Sipping Tension Tamer Tea While Reading Bible Passages To A Group Of Children At Church On A Sunday Morning.”
The greatest debate since “Is that fugly dress black and blue or white and gold?” hit Twitter today when an Instagram video of RiRi maybe snorting coke was passed around. In the video, RiRi is partying with some friends on what looks like a fancy tour bus and the camera catches her with some kind of straw-looking thing in her hand (SPOILER ALERT: It’s probably a joint) and later shows her squeezing her nose like all RAGING COKEHEADS do. The ESCANDALOSO video is after the cut, but you might not be able to unclutch your fingers from your pearls to press play.
We may finally know the answer to the question,”Why in the fuck is Nelly always hot in herre?” The answer may be: Because ho is tweaking on crystal.
The Chattanooga Times Free Press says that Nelly (born name: Cornell Haynes) was arrested early yesterday morning and charged with felony drug possession and possession of weed. Dude is in a dilemma, you could say. At 9:20 yesterday morning, a trooper pulled over Nelly’s tour bus because it didn’t have the right stickers on it. When a cloud of the good shit wafted up into the trooper’s nostrils, he decided to do a probable cause search on the bus. After snooping around, the troopers found weed, drug paraphernalia and a plastic bag with 5 crystal-type rocks in it. The rocks tested positive for meth. The cops also found several handguns and 100 small Ziploc bags, which the police say are commonly used to sell drugs. One of the other dudes on the bus, Brian Jones, was also arrested for handgun possession.
Nelly was taken to the Putnam County Jail where he was later released on $10,000 bond. Nelly will have to show his face in court in June. Nelly’s lawyer tells TMZ that he’s going to fight the charges, because the meth wasn’t his. Nelly claims that over a dozen people had access to the bus and the meth could belong to any one of them.
Part of me believes that the meth isn’t Nelly’s, because I’d think that he would be a smart meth head who knows that when the cops stop his bus he needs to flush the bad shit down the toilet or shove it up his b-hole or hide it in a place that nobody would dare to go, like under a pile of his last CD. But the other part of me thinks that the meth may be Nelly’s, because it would explain those Band-Aids on his face (meth scratched face is no joke) and his teeth. It would also really explain why he whored himself out for Honey Nut Cheerios.
You know, I bet that meth belonged to the Honey Nut Cheerios Bee. That bee always looks tweaked the fuck out.
When Amy Pascal packed her things in a bankers box and said “peace, bitches” to Sony last month, she probably thought she was also saying sayonara to the chronic tension headaches she was getting every time she thought about Seth Rogen. But according to The Hollywood Reporter, Amy Pascal is still being haunted by Seth Rogen, and it’s because her new office is Seth Rogen’s old office, and it stinks like weed.
Sources say that Amy Pascal’s move into her new office has been delayed because they’re having a difficult time removing the overwhelming stench of Otto’s jacket that was put there by its previous occupants, Seth Rogen and his creative partner Evan Goldberg. Currently the plan is to put Amy in a temporary spot while they try to get rid of the smell by repainting the office.
However, another source says the weed smell isn’t that bad and that she’s only having the office repainted because she wants it repainted. They also add that Seth and Evan weren’t in the office long enough to get their stink up in it. And a third source says they’re going to have to do more than just throw some Dutch Boy on the walls, because the floor stinks too.
But according to the alleged source of the stink, it’s all liiiiiiies. Seth Rogen took to Instagram to clear his name by saying:
“I don’t know what’s more irresponsible: that they would print a story that is completely untrue, or that they would refer to how pot smells as a “stench.” #myshitssmellsgood”
I’m Team Smokey on this one. Seth Rogen is a rich and famous type, which means his dirty gas station weed days are over. Rich and famous types always have access to the best stuff; I bet he smokes shit that smells like a quaint little log cabin or an angel queef. They should check the security camera footage to see whose weed stench it really is. Did Seth give a key to his office to James Franco? He seems like the stench weed type.
So that’s why she always looks like a stoned version of The Joker. According to UsWeekly, Bethenny Frankel – the hypothetical result of if Yzma and Kronk had a baby – is currently working on a strain of Skinnygirl-branded weed that doesn’t make you want to shove an entire tray of Costco cinnamon buns in your mouth after you smoke it. A source close to Bethenny (a 13-calorie joint wrapped in fat-free rolling paper) says:
“It will be a specially engineered strain of pot designed to not give you the munchies. She read about how profitable the cannabis industry is and wants to get in on that.”
I’m not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, I’m sure it would be nice to get fucked up without fucking up my stomach (see: the time my friend smoked a bag of old-ass weed and ate an entire sheet cake from Costco), but on the other hand, some of my best meals have been created during a case of the munchies. Without the munchies, I might never have invented cookie dough soup (cookie dough crumbled into pudding), the Heart-Attack Fiesta (any item from Taco Bell stuffed with KFC popcorn chicken), or raver spaghetti (strawberry Sour Punch Straws that I eat with a fork). I know, I’m basically the Canadian Guy Fieri.
At the very least I hope they make Skinnygirl weed taste better than Skinnygirl booze, because I once tried a Skinnygirl mojito and it made me immediately want to eat an entire bowl of 7-layer dip to help me forget about the taste of toothpaste-flavored nut sweat in my mouth.
Excuse me a moment, I just got severely second-hand high from this picture and I need to lay down. Also, is it just me, or is that hot dog cowboy kind of handsome? Hold on I’m totally going to try to get his number.
Miley Cyrus, the perpetually-stoned teenage burnout who used to sniff glue while listening to Phish’s Rift on a Sony Walkman every day in your 10th grade art class, told Australia’s Sunday Night (via The Guardian) that she thinks y’all should just calm the frig down about her constantly shoving marijuana into her mouth hole, because it’s causing her less harm that reading the shit people write about her online. When asked if she thinks smoking as much good shit as she does will someday rot what’s left of the lukewarm bag of Frito pie she calls a brain, Miley responded:
“You know what hurts your brain? Googling yourself. You know what hurts your brain? Instagram. You know what hurts your brain? Reading comments on Facebook. You know what hurts your brain? Reading US Weekly.”
One time I smoked way too much salvia and had convinced myself I’d time-traveled back to a newsroom in 1976 (I might have had a Mary Tyler Moore Show drug trip? Good lord, even my drug trips are lame) and that was the single most fucked up I’ve ever been in my life. When I came to, I was shaking my friend by the shoulder and begging him to tell me what year it was. But time-travel hallucinations are nothing compared to reading the next-level incoherant comments on Instagram. I’m no Bill Nye, but I’m sure that reading word garbage like “U dat uglee THOT bitch i kno u izz TRICKY HO DONT LIE” and “@Beyonce my queen plz check out my cousin she is a stylist who is really much good and talent @Beyonce u shoudl hire her!!!” kills at least 8 times as many brain cells as smoking weed. I feel like that’s why people get hooked on meth; they’re like “Fuck all this reading, just let me smoke the crazy and save myself some time.”
For those of you looking at the toes poking out of the bottom of Sarah Silverman’s dress and wondering “Did that crazy bitch go barefoot?”, the answer is yes, that crazy bitch went barefoot. Okay sure, she might not actually be barefoot; she could be wearing a pair of JJ Casuals. But since it’s human cloud of weed smoke Sarah Silverman we’re talking about, it’s probably safest to assume she’s barefoot.
As always, the Emmys were a snore-filled snooze fest last night, but luckily there was a brightly shining stoned star who guided us safely through that never-ending mess. The second Sarah Silverman arrived, I knew everything was going to be alright. First she sashayed onto the red carpet looking like a sedated avocado with her tits out, which is always the look. Then she got freaked out by a talking blonde grasshopper (Giuliana Rancic) and forgot how a microphone works. Then she started fighting with the grasshopper while trying to fix her tits, at which point, Giuliana Rancic opened her gold clutch to explain what she brought with her to the Emmys (good idea, distract the stoner with something shiny) and inside it was a vape full of liquid pot. Sorry, did I say full? I mean about 1/3 full, since she clearly inhaled most of it on the way to the Emmys.
Thankfully, that wasn’t the last we saw of a high-as-hell Sarah Silverman. She came back a little while later when she won the award for Outstanding Writing for a Variety Special, which she accepted by running to the stage barefoot, leaping up the stairs like Stoned Jesus, rambling about space and molecules, and thanking her boyfriend “Mr. Fancy Pants Sheen” (Michael Sheen). Afterwards in the press room, some adorable innocent naive cherub asked Sarah if had smoked weed before the show (aw, stay sweet, you). She answered that she likes to “have a puff as a treat, at appropriate times” (which I guess is the “Bitch I might be” for more formal occasions), but really, did she even need to answer? Bitch was barefoot! That’s all the answer you need.
Mario Diaz of PIX 11 was reporting from Midtown in Manhattan about Shia LaBeouf’s arrest and it would’ve been a perfect moment if Shia appeared and tried to take Mario down with his old timey cartoon boxing moves while wearing his hot corduroy leggings. But the next best thing happen. A wild-eyed, happy-faced Erykah Badu slid into the shot while wearing Twinkie the Kid’s signature hat and looking like she just swallowed a Snoop Dogg fart. She looked stoned into another dimension. Erykah floated on by like a cracked-out Pac-Man ghost and she tried to give Mario a little kiss. But because Mario is a reporter in NYC and is probably used to street trolls trying to screw with him at work, he pushed her away and kept going. Mario didn’t know that he pushed away Erykah Badu, but his wife was watching from a few feet away and knew his ass just got Badu’d.
Mario twatted this afterward:
@fatbellybella I get it because… "Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with I just want your extra time and your….. kiss"
— Mario Diaz (@MarioPIX11) June 28, 2014
— Mario Diaz (@MarioPIX11) June 28, 2014
@fatbellybella After she figured out what really happened she laughed and said, "Great taste." Next time I won't do the NYC push back.
— Mario Diaz (@MarioPIX11) June 28, 2014
Erykah Badu should stick to whatever strain of weed she smoked before she tried to kiss bomb Mario, because it’s doing good things to her. It’s so much better than whatever strain of weed she smoked before her crazy ass said that “racist gays” were the only ones criticizing her for performing for a dictator. And well, if you’re going to get trolled at work, you might as well get trolled by a stoned Erykah Badu wearing Farrah Abraham’s butt plug on her head.